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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988968">Acquainted with the Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka'>Zdenka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Die Zauberflöte | The Magic Flute - Mozart/Schikaneder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Referenced Suicide Attempt, background Pamina/Tamino, implied suicidal ideation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:07:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pamina has left the kingdom of the Night, but it has not entirely left her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Purimgifts 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Acquainted with the Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/gifts">jonphaedrus</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pamina is well-acquainted with the night. She is her mother’s daughter, with darkness flowing through her veins.</p><p>As a child, she walked in darkness, ate it and drank it and breathed it in every day in the kingdom of the Night. She knew that “day” and “night” were different, separated and delimited by the hours marked on the clock or the smoky burning-down of candles; but day was darkness and night was darkness, the sky lit only by the stars. As a child, she simply accepted it as the way things were. As a child, she was perfectly obedient, looking always to her mother for a smile or glance of approval. She didn’t know it was possible to be any other way. And the stars that her mother commanded sang to her, their voices soft and possessive, rejoicing that she would be their next queen.</p><p>Pamina is no longer a child. But sometimes, too often, she is awoken by the song of the stars. Tamino is breathing softly beside her in their bed, and for a moment she envies his untroubled sleep. He would say she should wake him, she knows; she has on other nights, and then he plays the flute for her, its sweet tones filling the room until the song that torments her grows quieter and she can finally sleep. <em>Have we not gone through fire and water together?</em> he would ask earnestly. <em>Whatever trouble there is, let us bear it together.</em> But this song is calling for her, and the darkness in her veins rises in answer.</p><p>The curtains are drawn against the night, but she can still feel it pressing against the windows. The stars sing in the distance, cold and clear. Pamina has left her mother's house and no longer obeys her commands, but the kingdom of the Night still calls to her, the voice of the stars demanding insistently that she return to her place as their queen.</p><p>Pamina will not.</p><p>She tries to shut out their song, but she can still hear it, piercing as the blade of a knife. The knife her mother gave to her to use against Sarastro, the knife she almost used on herself.</p><p>Pamina rises from her bed and goes to the window. She tears the curtain open with a convulsive motion. Starlight spills into the room.</p><p>She lifts cupped hands, and the light fills it, overflowing like a waterfall. The starlight twines around her, seeking to claim her, and she does what will quiet it. She sings: not with the sharp, piercing voice of her mother, but with her own voice, softer but rich and full. And the silver light obeys her. She forms it into shapes as it swirls around her: dragons and spears and stars, suns and moons and bright scatterings of musical notes. As if making stars would keep the cold song of the stars away, as if making suns would bring the sun's light back faster.</p><p>The night crawls onward, each hour separated from the next only by the slow movement of the clock. There is darkness, and then there is darkness.</p><p>But this is no longer the kingdom of the Night. Pamina will fight against what calls her, as long as she must. Pamina is a daughter of the Night, but she does not belong to it. And if she endures, at last the sun will rise.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from the poem <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47548/acquainted-with-the-night">Acquainted with the Night</a> by Robert Frost.</p><p>Image Credit:</p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@alexandrewavrant">Alexandre Wavrant</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/">Unsplash</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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